


who's the enemy

by purinesoot (vivisuals)



Series: love begets hate, hate begets anger [1]
Category: Dream SMP - Fandom, Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Dadza, Dave | Technoblade and Wilbur Soot and TommyInnit are Siblings, Explosions, Gen, Heavy Angst, Hurt No Comfort, No respawns, how to tag help, villian?wilbur soot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-18
Updated: 2020-11-18
Packaged: 2021-03-09 21:22:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,866
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27602746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivisuals/pseuds/purinesoot
Summary: All Wilbur wants to do is press the button and blow the motherfucker up into smithereens.
Relationships: No shipping - Relationship, all are platonic/familial
Series: love begets hate, hate begets anger [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2097735
Comments: 7
Kudos: 106





	who's the enemy

**Author's Note:**

> i can't stop watching the finale it's so fucking good! also i wrote this today and i had to toggle between sbi's vods LMAO it was tough,, anyways i hope you enjoy the fic :) 
> 
> (song used is bionicpig's enemy,, go check it out!)

_Dismantle me like before_

_Show me your teeth and tongue_

_Make me regret what I’ve done_

_I’ll act like you have won_

Wilbur steps away from the destroyed podium, adrenaline slowly pulsing through his veins. He feels… different, and his stomach flips about in strange nervousness. ~~They’ve~~ He, Wilbur Soot, has won back what has always been his rightfully from the start. Tommy, sweet and brash and brave Tommy, the adopted brother of his he’s come to love and hate, tease and annoy, laugh with and scream at, is looking upon him from his place in the audience with the same proud and admiring gaze every time the older does something so big and impressive. 

_(Tommy, I’m so fucking sorry.)_

“I’m heading out for a while guys.” He calls out from the hill where he’s above everyone in the crowd and they all yell back with responses of “Okay”s, still buzzing with elation that Schlatt has been overthrown and the start of a new, hopeful era is rising upon the lands. 

Wilbur pauses to turn and look back as Tubbo stands on the same spot he did earlier on the podium. He knows Tubbo is definitely overcome with pleasant shock and unknowing wavering with his new position as the leader of L’Manberg, but Tubbo, Tommy’s best friend and ever-faithful right-hand man, a boy filled with endless love and sweetness and all the good things in the world, he can make it all right again. 

Who is Wilbur kidding? Not even Tubbo can make L’Manberg back to what it was once.

The crowd, Niki, Thunder, Fundy, they are all finally beaming in what has seemed like aeons ago when Tommy gave up his discs for the independence of L’Manberg and granted them temporary relief and freedom. Hell, even fucking Eret who has always been labelled the traitor, he is on _their_ side now and soaking in the celebratory atmosphere.

Wilbur doesn’t notice the glint of rage in his older brother Techno’s beady eyes and the cocking of the enchanted crossbow.

  
  
  


_Whisper to me of your love_

_Show me that I'm enough_

_Let’s disregard all the_ _things_

_that you've done_

_To bend me, to break me_

_I'm not your enemy,_

_I’m just going in for the kill_

_If you think that this will be easy,_

_oh, I guess you are probably right_

  
  


Technoblade’s blood is boiling. He’s screaming in his brain: the revolution, the preparations, the efforts and hard work he’s done for himself, his brothers, their motley crew of _L’Manbergians_ , _all for nothing_! He can feel the inner piglin in him salivating for blood and death _(“Did someone say rebellion?”)_. His hoof trembles in anger as he stealthily arms his deadly crossbow with even deadlier fireworks. 

The day he was brought onto the lands of this accursed Dream SMP, Technoblade had sworn to bring nothing but chaos and destruction with the excuse of helping Wilbur and Tommy in the name of anarchy. When it became clear Wilbur had fallen off from sanity, overthrowing Schlatt became nothing more but a distant thing. 

It lights a dormant flame within him, the anarchism, tyranny, bloodshed, destruction he had gone through during his time as the ruler of the Antarctic Empire: the Blood God could do it all again.

And so, when Tubbo joins everyone else on the ground, an excited grin etched on his face just as Technoblade remembers whenever Tommy was making jokes and being a fool with him, whenever Wilbur cried out his name in joy as he sneaked into Pogtopia, whenever Technoblade made sarcastic remarks in his usual dry, monotone manner, the piglin approaches the newly-appointed leader carefully.

Tubbo speaks lightly with grand yet humble plans to bring L’Manberg and its people back to their origins. He’s gathered around the other citizens and non-citizens alike who have been embroiled in the war to overthrow a tyrannical president, all listening and pitching in ideas that are happily accepted by Tubbo. Those fools may see Tubbo and Tommy and the dawn of a new era as their salvage, but Technoblade sees and knows more and all.

Tubbo is just another leader, a non-democratically elected one in fact. Tubbo is just another individual who has been given power to shape L’Manberg into what he desires. Tubbo is nothing but a vulnerable and fragile child made into a figure of authority. Tommy is part of that too.

Yet, Technoblade doesn’t hate Tubbo. He can't bring himself to hate Tommy too. All he hates is the people’s foolishness to want a government.

Technoblade can feel his animalistic temper overwhelm his body, rationality all haywire and dissipating. He takes a deep breath, his jaw stretching into a smirk. His comm buzzes and he looks down to see a message from Dream: I have your back.

The Blood God takes his aim and shoots.

_(“Tommy, the thing is you’re using words. But the thing about this world Tommy, is that the only universal language is violence, and we’ve had that conversation. We’ve spoken that language in the pit. It’s over Tommy. On to a new day, a new plot to destroy Manberg.”)_

  
  
  


_I'll let you decide who's the enemy,_

_who's the enemy, who's the enemy_

_I'll let you decide who's the enemy,_

_I'm the enemy, I'm the enemy_

  
  
  


Wilbur smiles bitterly, scaling down the grassy peak and drawing out a pickaxe. Wordlessly and with a heavy, dizzy head, he mines through blocks of smooth stone. In front of him is laid out a yellow concrete path as though it were a red carpet welcoming him. Sighing, he steps into the cold hallway and enters the decrepit room with lazy writing carved painstakingly on the wooden signs hanging on the walls.

Wilbur laughs half-heartedly at the lyrics of his self-composed anthem for his country L’Manberg. He sings softly as he sits down on the lone chair in the room, eyes focused on a button in front of him. The button calls out to him like a siren does to a bewitched crewmate.

_I heard there was a special place._ L’Manberg is gone, ruined, destroyed under Schlatt’s time as the ruler. There is nowhere to go to and call it L’Manberg. Wilbur’s country is dead. Pogtopia is simply a lacklustre replacement and shell of the original state’s former glory.

_Where men could go and emancipate, the brutality and the tyranny of their rulers._ Rulers of land come and go just like Dream, Wilbur, Schlatt, Eret, Technoblade. They ~~are~~ were rulers of places once free to all, and it was only the people themselves that called for power who dominated those lands. Powerful people have powerful dreams that can break or make their own land and citizens. Dream, Wilbur, Schlatt, Eret and Technoblade all fell into the murky depths of authority and influence, relinquishing their clear minds, innocence, acceptance, loyalty, humanity to receive more and more. 

_Well this place is real, you needn’t fret, with Wilbur, Tommy, Tubbo, fuck Eret._ What use is there even if the original occupants of L’Manberg are still standing their ground? What use is there even if the people closest to you still have your back? What use is there even if you’ve taken back everything you could have wanted? Wilbur’s yearning for his nation that he has painstakingly built is already shattered from small fights and large wars.

_It’s a very big and not blown-up L’Manberg. My L’Manberg, my L’Manberg-_

“The button’s right there.” Wilbur interrupts his own thoughts. “If I’m ever going to press it it’s now… and the thing that _I built for this nation doesn’t exist anymore_!” He yells out into the small room, his body trembling. “The thing I worked towards doesn't exist anymore. It’s over.” His heavy breathing rips the silence, anger and hatred building up in him.

Wilbur’s comm suddenly crackles to life.

“What are you doing?”

  
  
  


_Just make a statement_

_And I'll show you that I'm wrong_

_Just make a statement_

_And I'll show you that I'm wrong_

  
  
  


Screams erupt from behind Technoblade as Tubbo disappears behind a flurry of red, blue and white fireworks. Vaguely, the former can hear Tommy yell and cry out for his friend. His younger brother’s pain-filled wails stab Technoblade in the heart but he pushes the pain aside to step over Tubbo’s limp body. 

He turns around to face the shell-shocked crowd, his attention on Tommy’s small trembling figure hugging Tubbo’s bloody one. Secretly, Technoblade is relieved to see the young victim’s chest heaving up and down shallowly: the kid will still live after all. The crowd yells at him, mostly in rage and some in fear and surprise. The noise rises above them, making Technoblade cringe at the loud din.

“Alright listen here!” The piglin shushes everyone menacingly. He locks eyes with his baby brother’s light blue eyes that are filled with shock and terror.

“You guys listen to me! I did not spend _weeks_ planning this revolution, giving you guys gear for you guys to go in and replace one tyrant with another! Don’t you see what’s happening here? Don’t you see history repeating itself? You think Schlatt was the cause of your problems? No! It was government: the power corrupts- _power corrupts_!”

Fundy splutters, “What the fuck are you saying?” Almost immediately the crowd spews out words of confusion and disagreement. Technoblade is determined to speak above all of them. “I’m saying that we need to have no government.” 

Dream and those on his side wave their swords in the air, striking out the rest of the crowd and creating the much-needed chaos. People yell and scream. People get their weapons ready too. People charge towards the instigators of another fight.

Technoblade sighs and readies his crossbow. “I see I was wrong to rely on other people.” 

  
  
  


_I whisper to you of this pain,_

_and how I’m not enough_

_And how I can't trust myself alone,_

_you act like I'm no one_

  
  
  


“Phil?” Philza can hear Wilbur’s voice, different from the insanely furious tone he has heard moments ago in the comms. His child sounds so broken and defeated now, and all Philza wants to do is to hug him, but he can’t. He’s flying to Wilbur as quickly as he can with his elytra wings, desperate to stop the younger from doing what he will regret. Wilbur speaks again, this time more gently like the Wilbur Soot Philza knew from a long, long time ago.

“Phil where are you?” Wilbur wonders if the older will join him in pushing the button. 

“I’m joining right now.” The older man says firmly and Wilbur asks if he should pick the other up. Then, Wilbur feels a sense of foreboding at Philza’s words, panicking as he tries to cover up his intentions.

“I’m not- I wasn’t- I wasn’t trying to do anything,” he stumbles over his words, “W-we just made Tubbo president. We elected Tubbo as president and we won! We won the war.” Wilbur tries to keep his cool as he tells his dad assuring things. 

“Schlatt’s gone-” He continues to ramble on with Philza acknowledging with unsure “uh-huh”s. “Uh-huh, so you are where exactly now?” 

Wilbur hesitates before responding, “In L’Manberg, the area- you wouldn’t know, I don’t think you’ve been here but it’s the area around L’Manb- it’s complicated. Geography in that, y’know. It’s geography and stuff-”

Philza stands at the end of the hallway, looking at Wilbur with arms crossed and an unreadable expression on his face. Wilbur cowers slightly. “Phil…?” The older simply nods, repeating his child’s words.

“In L’Manberg, you said?” Philza has never thought Wilbur would tell him a lie, but here he is, a few metres away from the latter who looks stunned upon seeing his presence. On the other hand, Wilbur knows the jig is up and he has no choice but to admit, “Okay, I will admit... do you know what this button is?” He turns to said object slightly before paying attention to Philza.

When Philza says yes, he continues. “Have you heard the song on the walls? I was just saying- I made this big point and it was poignant and there _was_ a special place where men could go but it’s not there anymore y’know?” Wilbur bites his lip like a child caught doing something wrong. He knows he’s in the wrong but he hopes Philza doesn’t pull him away from whatever he’s about to do.

“It is there. You’ve just won it back Wil.” Philza starts out gently, like what he’s always done whenever Wilbur or Techno or Tommy would come running to him for advice or receive stern words after doing wrong things. 

Wilbur feels his rage increase by tenfold at Philza’s words, inhaling before yelling with hands thrown upwards in frustration, “Phil I’m always _so close_ to pressing this button! Seven or eight times, I’ve been here. Seven or eight times.” He rasps out and above the two men, fireworks burst out.

“And you want to just blow it all up?” Wilbur’s gaze is unfocused and he swallows around the lump in his throat. “Yeah I do, I think I-” He breaks off, hand messing up his already unkempt brown hair.

Philza continues to stay in the corner of the room. “You fought so hard to get this land back-” “I don’t even know what works anymore Phil.” Wilbur interrupts him and Philza looks on in distraught. The younger turns around as Philza says with a broken chuckle, “You wanna take that risk? There is a lot of TNT potentially connected to the button.”

Wilbur looks away. “Phil, there was a saying by a traitor once part of L’Manberg. A traitor I don’t know if you’ve heard of, Eret?” He turns towards the button.

“He had a saying, Phil. ‘It was never meant to be’.”

_(“No Wilbur, the reason we made L’Manberg in the first place was to get away from it, alright? The reason that we went through the_ bloodshed _and the_ pain _was because we needed L’Manberg. And if there isn’t L’Manberg, then what’s the point in this?”_

_“Stop it alright? Wilbur you’re being reckless, you’re not being the man that came as president. This isn’t the right thing to do; this isn’t the moral thing to do. What’s the point in doing anything, if you’ve lost all hope?”)_

  
  
  


_I'll let you decide who's the enemy,_

_who's the enemy, who's the enemy_

_I'll let you decide who’s the enemy,_

_I'm the enemy, I'm the enemy_

  
  


“Oh my god you didn’t.” Philza gasps out in shock as Wilbur smiles facing him, a hand saluting as the explosives closest to them set off before a chain reaction occurs, blowing off the wall behind Wilbur and showing the obliteration of what was once L’Manberg.

“Oh my gods… Wil! It’s all gone!” Philza sputters at the absurdity of the sight in front of him. The blond looks at his son who sighs as though a huge burden has been lifted off his shoulders, and then alternates his focus between the latter and the destroyed lands in front of them.

“My L’Manberg, Phil. My unfinished symphony forever unfinished!” Wilbur shouts out deliriously into the open air. He’s done it. He’s finally done it. After so many times of being convinced not to, he's done it. Wilbur feels like he’s floating and he yells, “If I can’t have this _no one_ can Phil!”

Wilbur can finally rest. He throws down an enchanted diamond sword in the direction of Philza. “Kill me Phil. Phil, kill me. Phil, stab me with the sword.” The brunet rambles, egging the older on. Philza’s hand trembles as he grips onto the sword, blue sapphire eyes staring into crazed brown ones.

“Do it. Kill me Phil, murder me.” Wilbur throws his hand outwards as Phil breathes shakily, “Look, they all want you to.” The podium is gone, the grassy lands are scorched and buildings have crumbled into debris. The fighting still continues.

“ _You’re MY son!_ ” Philza yells with all the love and disappointment and sadness and horror he feels. His son, his poor, beautiful, smart and such a small, small boy, wants his own father to murder him. 

“Phil kill me!” “No matter what you do, no matter what you-” Wilbur has slumped to the floor, fists banging on the cold, grey stone floor. He wants this, so why can't Philza give it to him?

“Phil this isn’t- Look, _look_!” Wilbur’s voice reverberates, fury dripping from his voice. “How much work went into this and it’s gone?” Philza looks at him before glancing back at the mass destruction made. He turns back to see his own son pleading him to take his life and he breaks even more.

“Do it.” Wilbur utters, looking away from his father, not wanting to meet the older’s eyes in his last moments... and Philza raises the sword high up in the air, bringing it down onto his son.

As the blade sears into his flesh, Wilbur realises belatedly he never had the chance to say goodbye to his family.

_(“But sometimes in order to feel comfortable and safe, you have to be ready to give up the things you’re worried you might lose.”)_

**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading :D


End file.
